In the faint, silver light of dawn, Ferret and Fizzit skirted the edge of the Forest of Shadows, their weary silhouettes dwarfed by the towering Wall Mountains. A bitter wind swept through the trees, carrying with it the distant echoes of their harrowing night in the dwarven fortress. Ferret's legs trembled beneath him, exhaustion gnawing at his bones as he clutched his injured arm.
"We're too close to the dwarven prison." Fizzit insisted, casting wary glances backwards.
"I told you; she's not getting past those rune doors." Ferret said. "Besides, my shoulder hurts and I want to sit down."
They argued for another hour before the homunculus agreed they were far enough away. "A few more hours and we'll be back at the warren," he grumbled.
Ferret dropped his satchel with his precious books on the moss-covered rocks before slumping himself. He closed his eyes and was asleep.
The smell of roasting flesh awoke him to the sight of Fizzit devouring a rat. A small fire provided comfort, even in the middle of the day.
"There was only one," Fizzit mumbled through a full mouth.
"I don't care." Ferret leaned back against a large stone, staring into the dancing flames, his thoughts wandering back to the events of the previous night. The dwarven complex had been both thrilling and terrifying, and he shuddered at the memory of the cold, damp corridors and the echoing cries of anguish.
But they had survived. And now they were free, along with a great treasure. Ferret's eyes returned to his satchel and its precious cargo, his mind swirling with plans and strategies.
Fizzit finished devouring the rat, wiping his greasy fingers on himself. "We can't stay here for long," he said. "We need to keep moving if we don't want to be banshee dung."
The goblin nodded, climbing to his feet, noticing the homunculus had re-bandaged his wound while he slept. Fizzit had been good to him despite the poor way Ferret had treated him.
Before they had left the complex, Fizzit rummaged through the pile of discarded clothing, searching for something to fit Ferret. But all they found was a long, ragged strip of fabric with a hole hacked into it. Ferret put it on, draping the cloth over his head like a makeshift poncho. He tied a tattered rope around his waist to cinch it in place before admiring himself. Despite its shabby appearance, it was the nicest outfit he had ever owned.
"Alright," Ferret finally replied. "Lead the way, Fizzit." They packed up their meagre belongings and set off towards the goblin's warren.
The sun was setting over the Dark Forest by the time it came into sight.
Even as the shadows grew longer, there were still many goblins scouring through the tall grasses with sharp sticks in hand, searching for roots to cook for their evening meal.
Ferret greeted the sentry, who had his finger up his considerable nose. It was the same goblin who had been on guard when they had left.
"Greetings." Ferret called. "I have returned."
The other goblin looked up from inspecting his nail. "You were gone?" he said before returned his finger to his nose.
Ferret felt a twinge of disappointment no one had noticed his absence, but before he said anything, Fizzit tugged on his ear and whispered.
"Don't say a word. If they haven't realized you were gone, they won't suspect you of hiding something." Ferret nodded, seeing the wisdom.
They climbed past the twisted roots and slick rocks and headed down into the warren. The winding passages dug from the dirt were narrow, as to prevent a hungry owl-bear from getting inside.
"It's not exactly dwarven made," he said to Fizzit.
"Feeling disappointed?" Fizzit asked.
"Just thinking I should have something more suited to my stature," the goblin said. The seeping dampness did not compare well.
"I spent the last twenty years in a cage in a ruined tower, so I'm not in a position to criticize."
As they navigated the labyrinthine tunnels of the goblin warren, Ferret eyed the dim alcoves on either side, where goblins would sleep or hide their meagre possessions. The air was thick with stale alcohol and burnt mushrooms, and despite the distant sound of goblins brawling echoed through the passages, it felt empty.
Ferret led them deeper into the warren until they reached a larger cave. The flickering light of torches illuminated the rough-hewn walls adorned with crude finger paintings depicting battles and legends of goblin heroes. It was a place for the entire tribe, where goblins huddled around the bonfire to share stories and feast on meagre meals. Where larger, more powerful goblins came to exert dominance and claim the best mates.
Rat, Ferret's closest companion, sat by the fire in this central cave, his beady eyes fixed on the small potato he was roasting with painstaking care. He scowled at anyone who dared to approach, his tiny claws gripping the spud protectively.
Rat's ears perked up at Ferret's approach. "Ferret," he cried after checking a sharp rock was within reach. "Where have you been? Brackish has been looking for you."
Ferret flinched at the mention of the new chief. He had hoped to have more time to experiment with his new rune magic, but it looked like he was going to have to make good on his rash promise sooner than he had expected.
He sat on the earthen floor next to Rat, making sure his satchel was away from any stray sparks.
"I've been keeping out of Bug's way." Ferret said. "Has he calmed down yet?"
"No." Rat laughed, his sharp teeth visible. "He's been looking all over for you. You got no chance of the chief protecting you when he finds out you can't do magic."
Ferret sighed at this lack of confidence in his abilities. "If Bug comes for me, will you help?" As soon as he had finished speaking, he knew the futility. The best he would hope for was for Rat to not point him out. If he was unlucky, Rat might even offer the large bully the use of his sharp rock.
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
In goblin society, fidelity only went so far. Ferret had to prove his worth, and soon.
He flicked a cockroach away and looked around the cave.
"Where is everyone?" With darkness approaching, he had expected to see more of the tribe gathering together.
"A bunch left." Rat monitored his roasting potato. "With so many warriors killed in the big battle, lots joined other warrens." Goblin warriors were nasty, brutal thugs, but they protected the tribe. Without the warriors, goblins would leave a weakened tribe and join a stronger. "Including most of the girls." Rat sighed.
"Like you had any chance." Ferret nudged him. "Only the tough goblins get to have mates."
"Still," Rat muttered. "There might have been one left over for me." Unhesitatingly, he thrust his hand into the roaring flames and snatched out a charred black object. He juggled the potato between his fingers, trying to find a cool spot to hold on to as heat radiated through his skin.
Ferret almost grabbed it from him, but decided against it based on moral principles. Morals, that's all I need.
His dinner devoured, Rat wandered off without a word, looking for a dry corner to sleep in.
With the tribe diminished, Brackish would look to assert his strength. Ferret knew he had to deliver, or he might be the chief's next object lesson to those not pulling their weight.
Leaving the comforting heat of the fire behind, Ferret navigated through the complex network of the goblin warren. The many empty alcoves were a testament to the weakness of the tribe. As he searched for a place to call his own, he stumbled upon a secluded area in a dark corner. A large tree root had extended into the cave, creating a natural shelter. Ferret noticed sticks and moss scattered around, showing someone had lived there before. A makeshift curtain made out of a half-cured skin gave the space a cozy touch. This would do, he thought.
Fizzit turned up as Ferret was laying out the small tools they had scavenged.
"Where have you been?" Ferret asked. The homunculus had a penchant for secrecy and did not like being visible to too many people.
"Around." Fizzit shrugged. "Did you know the new boss is thinking of attacking the next closest goblin warren?"
"An attack is suicide." The idea shocked Ferret. "He'll get us all killed."
"I gather that's the point." Fizzit set up the candle on an old rat's skull, so the goblin had light to work with. "Either they win and get enough food to survive the winter, or they all get killed, and it's not a problem. Glory, or Bust."
Ferret settled himself down with a lump of wood in his lap. "I'm going to make sure we don't get end up getting killed."
"What bought about this change of heart?" Fizzit retorted, "I thought insane risks were your whole thing."
Ferret struggled to find his retort before settling on "Shut up."
"Very witty." Fizzit snickered.
Ferret opened the dwarven book to a marked page. The comments suggested this was a common rune, and he hoped it would be easy to create.
With newfound excitement and determination, Ferret set to work. He selected a small carving tool from his bag and began to replicate the intricate rune designs on a piece of twisted wood lying nearby. The first dozen times he had attempted this had resulted in failure, but now, as he etched the symbol into the surface, Ferret felt an energy surge coursing through his veins. The rune seemed to come alive under his touch, pulsating with a faint glow.
With intense focus, he constructed the multidimensional pattern of energy before carefully filling it with mana. The surrounding air pulsed with anticipation as he connected the intricate puzzle, his mind buzzing with concentration. The power coursed through him like a living force.
Too much power, he thought. Magic overflowed the pattern and Ferret struggled to hold it together. He tried to force the magic into position, but it was like trying to wrestle with water. As the design unraveled, the intricate lines and curves collapsed, releasing the pent-up magic.
A dazzling explosion of colored sparks filled the small alcove, stinging exposed skin. Ferret shielded his precious book, while Fizzit frantically stamped out any spots where smoke threatened to ignite into flames.
"Impressive." Fizzit said dryly. "Can I assume this is a failure?"
"I think I built the matrix wrong." Ferret took a closer look at the diagram, pointing to tiny numbers by each of the lines. "I think we have to do it bit by bit in order to hold all the magic."
"That way, we can get a really big explosion." Fizzit dove into cover as Ferret turned over the charred wood and started to carve.
This time, keeping one eye on the book's diagram, he constructed the pattern in his mind. Every detail had to match, every line and curve, to be precise. As he delved deeper into the diagram, his body became tense with concentration, his breath coming in short bursts as he willed the energy to take shape. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead while his hands carved the rune.
With a last burst of determination, the pattern was complete, forming a dazzling display of colors and shapes before fading as it merged with the carved wood. It worked! He exhaled deeply, his senses still tingling from the experience, knowing he had tapped into something extraordinary.
Fizzit peeked from behind the rat skull. "Did it work?" he looked about to see if anything was on fire.
Ferret nodded with elation. He flexed his fingers and cast the Sense Magic spell, focusing his energy and channeling it through his fingertips. He couldn't explain how wizardry was different from Rune Casting, but it was.
They both leaned over and examined the rune.
"It's definitely doing something." Ferret observed as they watched the pattern vibrated as it drew in mana from its surroundings.
"This is the Rune of Hardness?" Fizzit asked.
"For wood, yes." Ferret had chosen this rune because the book contained one version for wood, and another for stone. Already he was seeing the differences between them. "I'm sure I can alter this, so it works on metal, or flesh."
"Just don't blow us up." Fizzit said before kicking the wood. "Is this thing indestructible, then?"
"No, just tough." Ferret hacked at it with a knife, but it just bounced off. "It might be good for plate armor, but not for anything requiring flexibility."
"Well, we don't have any plate. And you promised Brackish weapons."
"I know, I know," Ferret grumbled, already planning his next creation. "I'll need to work a different rune. Something more versatile, yet still powerful."
Fizzit plopped down on a nearby stack of old moss, his eyes glinting. "You know, we could have real fun with these runes. Imagine casting one on Brackish's loin cloth!"
Ferret chuckled at the thought before shaking his head. The runes he carved for Brackish's weapons were only the beginning. With newfound determination, Ferret set out to expand his knowledge and delve deeper into the intricate art of rune magic.
The night was a blur of intense study and experimentation as Ferret and Fizzit scoured the dwarf tome, discovering its secrets. As Ferret's confidence in rune carving grew, so did the complexity and power of the runes.
Eventually, they had two weapons laid out before them. Humming with latent power, the runes pulsated in the candlelight.
Taking inspiration from the dwarf commander's axe, Ferret had carved a wood cutter's axe with a rune to give the wielder strength, and another to give the axe perfect balance.
A crude goblin spear, he had carved with runes for accuracy. He had etched three runes before he saw they were less effective with each application.
"They are impressive." Fizzit congratulated. "And two weapons meet the definition of multiple."
Ferret grinned with pride, a newfound sense of accomplishment washing over him. He had come a long way from scavenging for survival to mastering the complex practice of rune magic. As he picked up the wood cutter's axe, he felt its unnatural smoothness, the way it cut through the air. Almost like it was eager to be unleashed. The rune for strength seemed to resonate with him, invigorating his muscles with a surge of energy.
"There's no telling what we are going to achieve with these runes," Ferret mused, his mind already buzzing with ideas for new creations. "And these are just lesser runes. Imagine the possibilities if we worked out how the greater runes worked."
Next, he reached for the goblin spear, running his fingers along its shaft. The accuracy runes gleamed, promising deadly precision in every throw. For a moment Ferret envisioned himself wielding these weapons in battle, turning the tide with grace and power.
No, these are for Brackish, he thought. Ferret was on the path of the Wizard, and nothing would turn him aside.